


We Can't All Be Heroes

by sassy_cissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied Torture, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:57:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/pseuds/sassy_cissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We can't all be heroes, because somebody has to sit on the side and applaud when they go by.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Can't All Be Heroes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nenne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenne/gifts).



> This was written for live journal's H/D Mpreg fest.

**Title:** We Can't All Be Heroes  
 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Epilogue compliant?** not even a tiny bit  


 

****

We Can't All Be Heroes

Draco shook his head. "Pregnant."

Harry looked at the healer. "You're positive? There's no mistake?" 

Healer Wolford gave a small sniff. "I've been dealing with wizard pregnancies since before you were a twinkle in your father's eye, Mr Potter. There is no mistake." 

"I meant no disrespect," Harry replied, sheepishly. "It's just we've never…well, after all this time…" 

"What my partner is stumbling to say," Draco interjected, "is that we shag like rabbits and have never used a contraceptive charm. I think we're both a bit taken aback by this news." 

Healer Wolford gave a curt nod. "Yes, well be that as it may, Mr Malfoy, it appears you're approximately five weeks along, putting your due date right before Christmas. This should explain your queasiness." 

"You'll have to resign," Harry said, looking at Draco. 

"Beg pardon?" 

"Well you can't be running half-way across the continent if you're expecting. You need to relax. Be calm. Quit working," Harry said matter of factly. 

"The hell!" Draco shouted. "Just because I'm _up the duff_ with your spawn, does not give you the right to treat me like some…some…" 

"Someone whom I love very much and who is about to give me the one thing I really never thought I could have?" Harry finished, reaching over for Draco's hand. 

"Dammit, Potter," Draco said, tearing up but loath to show it. "How am I supposed to be mad at you after that?" 

"You're not," Harry replied smiling. "So you'll talk to Kingsley in the morning?" 

Draco stood, fastening his robes. "What I _will_ agree to is to discuss this further at home. I'm certain Healer Wolford has better things to do than to listen to you being a prat." He gave Harry a smile. 

When Harry opened his mouth to reply, Draco pressed a finger to Harry's lips. "Shhh, pregnant here. Mustn't do anything but listen to me and fuss. Oh and a foot rub wouldn't go amiss, I believe." 

Harry rolled his eyes. 

"I saw that, Potter, and for that you are taking me for a hot fudge and banana and hot sauce sundae at Fortescue's on the way home." 

Harry followed Draco out the door muttering _It's gonna be a long eight months._

oo00oo

Harry sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on the open folder in front of him but not really seeing any of the words. Draco was nearly twelve weeks along now and still adamantly refusing to tell Kingsley or volunteer for desk duty. The last raid they had gone on found Harry much more concerned about where Draco was than in the movements of their prey, and he had barely missed being hit with a Severing Charm. It was, in fact, only due to Draco's quick wand-work that he still had all his limbs attached properly. This only made Draco dig his heels in more firmly in his refusal to make any sort of announcement. Harry was seriously considering Owling Narcissa when he thought he heard a noise in the hallway.

"Potter?" 

Harry glanced up from the open file on top of the small stack in the middle of the chaos that was his desk and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt standing in the open doorway. 

"A word with you, please," his supervisor said softly. 

Harry leaned back in his chair, brows lifted. "Sure, Kingsley. What is it?" 

Kingsley glanced at Draco's empty chair, then leaned back to look quickly down the hallway. "Where's your partner?" he asked when his eyes came back to Harry. Harry frowned slightly. 

"The loo," he answered. "Why?" 

"Then he'll be back soon," Kingsley said, sounding speculative under his breath. "Perhaps my office, then…" 

Harry's frown deepened. "What's going on?" 

"Not here, Potter." 

He turned and strode away.Harry cursed softly before pushing back from his desk and heading towards the door. He had just turned into the hallway when Draco came out of the men's toilet and nearly collided with Kingsley, who spared him little more than a slight nod before continuing on his way. When Harry drew level with him, Draco touched his arm. 

"What's up Kingsley's arse?" he asked, his eyes on the back of the tall man's head. 

"Haven't a clue," Harry answered. "Just said he wanted a word." 

Draco's fair brow creased in a frown. "With just you? Not both of us? Do you think he _knows_?" 

Harry turned his hand and gripped Draco's briefly. "Can't imagine how. I'm sure it's nothing." The look Draco sent him told him what he thought of that theory. 

"You'll tell me…" 

"You know I will," Harry assured him, then squeezed his hand before following Kingsley down the hall. 

Draco watched them go, his frown deepening. 

 

When Harry didn't return to their office until nearly an hour later, Draco had worked himself into a full blown case of nervous anxiety. He hid most of the symptoms well, but the jerky movement of his right knee under his desk and the tapping of his quill against a report that he couldn't concentrate on were both clear 'tells' to anyone who knew him. And Harry knew him. So when he saw the knee bouncing and the quill jerking, he sighed inwardly before he made every effort to clear all expression from his face. 

"Well, this is just bloody irritating," he said with a manufactured scowl, entering and going to his desk. Draco's head shot up, fair fringe nearly obscuring his eyes. 

"What is? Does he know?" he asked, tossing his quill aside. 

"About the baby? Not at all. But it seems," Harry said dryly, mouth curled in a slight sneer, "that there is a ring of nasty little pervs operating up north." 

"Excuse me?" Draco said, a brow that was just slightly darker than his hair arching ironically. "Pervs as in…" 

"Junior perverts." Harry sat behind his desk heavily, affecting what he hoped was a believably irritated expression. "Young wizards who have convinced a lot of underage witches to doff their kit for wizard photos and are now posting them all over Hogwarts and Hogsmeade." Harry shook his dark head. "What this has to do with the Auror department, I don't know…" 

"Wait," Draco held up one graceful hand, clearly fighting amusement. "You were just called into Kingsley's office over… amateur porn?" 

"Pretty much." 

Draco bit back a smile, but Harry saw it. "And what has this to do with you, other than you have an appreciation for porn, yourself?" 

"Girls, Draco," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. "Pictures of GIRLS. Do keep up." 

"Clearly an important distinction." Draco smirked, and Harry felt the knot in his chest begin to relax slightly as it became clear that Draco was buying his story. "You still haven't explained your part in this conversation." 

"Well, the reason that we were brought in on it to begin with is that apparently one of the little ladies involved is the granddaughter of a high ranking member of the Wizengamot, and no," he said flatly when Draco opened his mouth to ask, "I don't know which one." Draco's smirk deepened, but he subsided back into his chair. "Anyway, they've dumped this mess on Kingsley and he in turn has dumped it on me." 

"Well, it doesn't sound terribly complicated," Draco shrugged. "We'll just go in and terrify the little bastards into stopping…" 

"That's just it," Harry said quickly. "We don't know exactly who they are, but the indications point to them being offspring of other well-heeled members of the government. We've been cautioned to move quickly, but delicately." Harry shook his head in what he hoped looked like exasperation. 

Now Draco frowned. "Which means… what, precisely?" 

"Kingsley has decided the best way to proceed here is to set the little bastards up, so he's sending Tonks in undercover." Draco's frown deepened. "She's the only one of us who can convincingly do a sixteen year old girl, Draco." 

Draco's expression smoothed at that. "This is true." 

"I'll be manning the stake-out. Once we've got the goods, then he figures me storming in and threatening them with Azkaban ought to be enough to scare the brats shitless." 

"Wait." Draco held up his hand, palm out, eyes sharp. "What does that mean, _you'll_ be manning the stake-out? Shouldn't that be 'we'? We are partners." He glared at Harry. "You told him to leave me out of it., didn't you?" 

Harry grimaced, hoping he looked as annoyed as Draco did. "I did not," he said quickly. "Kingsley says he just can't justify sending THREE of his top Aurors off on something so stupid. Besides, he's got something else that he wants you on, something way more important." Harry hoped his face didn't belie his relief that Kingsley truly did not want Draco involved in this plan. 

"Wait a minute," Draco interrupted, color staining his cheeks. "He's sending you off with Tonks?" 

Harry nodded, hoping his expression was holding. "Just for a few days." 

"A few _days_?" Draco's eyes widened, then narrowed, and Harry fought to keep his face neutral. 

"Well, they have to put Tonks in place, get her in position for these little shits to trust her, get the photo's." Harry shrugged as casually as he could. "So, yeah. A few days. Three, four tops." 

"Harry," Draco said warningly, but Harry held up his hand. 

"Do you think I'm happy about this?" he asked. "That this is what I want to be spending my time on? It's not exactly what I trained for. I'd much rather stay home and listen to you grumble about how your waistline is expanding. Trust me, I'm not any happier about it than you are, but this grandfather is being a first class arse, Draco. He's threatening departmental funding." 

Draco scowled, then sighed heavily. "When are you leaving?" 

Harry felt the knot in his chest slowly unravel, and he took and released a deep breath. "Tomorrow. Morning." 

Draco stared down at the open file in front of him, then emphatically flipped it shut, stood up, and shoved in his chair. He then turned to Harry, brow arched. "Are you coming?" he asked starkly, holding out his hand. 

"Where are we going?" Harry responded, pushing his chair back and standing as well. 

"Well, if you're going to be gone for 'three, maybe four' days," the corner of Draco's lips quirked, "we're going home to shag like rabbits. I won't be made to suffer because you're off to play with my cousin. Unless you've something you'd rather do?" 

The smile that moved across Harry's face was slow to develop, but ultimately bright. "Can't think of a thing." 

"Brilliant." 

Harry took Draco's hand, and they left the office.

oo00oo

Draco had never liked being alone in their flat. He wasn't a particularly big fan of his own company, and when Harry wasn't there, the place felt too big, too neat, too empty. Understanding the mission his lover was on, he bore up stoically through the first night, and even the second, but by the third the strain was beginning to show. He didn't sleep well when Harry wasn't there, and the long dark hours of the night gave him way too much time to worry.

It helped some that his days were full of a new and intriguing project. Kingsley had in fact had something infinitely more interesting for Draco to work on than home spun porn; there was a potions counterfeiter trying to get a foothold in the local market, and he or she had already seriously injured three people with poorly manufactured potions. During the day, Draco was engrossed with dismantling the potions, looking at ingredients, searching for tell-tale magical signatures. But at night, when he was in their home alone, the absence of Harry was like an ache that just got worse with each passing minute. Not to mention the nagging feeling that seemed to emanate from his belly, telling him something was amiss. The third night he woke out of his first good sleep in days with a sense of foreboding that wouldn't go away. By the fourth night he was looking longingly at half of a bottle of Bordeaux. Common sense won out and in the end Draco settled for a large mug of lavender tea, but by the morning of the fifth day, his patience was at an end, and the _pull_ he felt he needed to follow was nearly overwhelming. When he arrived at the Ministry, he immediately headed for his supervisor's office. 

He never got that far. 

He'd stepped out of the lift and rounded the corner toward their office when he looked up and saw Kingsley and Dawlish hovering outside of the door. He felt a niggling of alarm at the somber expressions on their faces. His hands felt abruptly cold, and there was a distinct shift in what he could only think of as the baby's magic. The coldness spread up his arms when Dawlish shifted slightly, and Tonks came into view behind him. Draco's heart began to pound hard when he saw the drawn pallor of her face. 

"What is it?" Draco said without preamble when he reached them. "What's happened?" 

"Not out here, Malfoy," Kingsley said softly. "Let's go inside, take a seat." 

"Tell me what's happened!" Draco insisted instead, his voice rising as his throat tightened. Something was wrong, he knew it; he could read it on their faces and he felt it in his belly. 

"Malfoy, the hallway isn't the place…" Kingsley tried again, reaching out and catching his arm. Draco wrenched out of his grasp. 

"Stop ducking the damned question, Kingsley." He knew that he was beginning to sound shrill, but they were frightening him, dammit, and his heart was pounding as his ears were ringing, and… 

"Cousin." 

The softer, higher voice caught his attention, and the steady hand on his arm pulled his eyes down. Tonks was standing before him, eyes wide in her pale little face, her hair uncharacteristically subdued. 

"Let's take this inside. Please." 

"Why aren't you with him, Tonks?" Draco said softly. He knew he sounded breathless and pleading and couldn't help it. "Where is he?" 

"We'll tell you, Draco. I promise. Let's just—" she looked around, and he was aware for the first time of how many people there were staring at the four of them. "Let's take it out of the hallway, yeah?" 

Draco nodded numbly and allowed her to take his hand and lead him into the office where Harry's cluttered desk still sat, undisturbed. He didn't remember sitting down, he just knew that suddenly he was looking up into Kingsley's wide, solemn eyes. And he waited. 

After everyone was settled, Kingsley leaned his hip on the edge of Harry's desk and looked down at his hands. "Malfoy, there's something…" he paused, then shook his head. "There's only one way to do this." 

Draco refused to blink, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. "You look far too somber, Kingsley," he said tightly, "for someone who sent a man out after teen-age boys taking dirty pictures." 

Kingsley's lips pursed. He still didn't look directly into Draco's watchful eyes. "That's the story that was told for inner-departmental consumption, Malfoy. But… it wasn't exactly the truth." 

Draco's heart slammed into the back of this throat. "Which part?" he managed hoarsely. "The kids? The porn? The grand-daughter?" 

Now Kingsley did meet his eyes, and the look in them was not encouraging. 

"The information that came to us initially was that the great, great granddaughter of Elphias Doge had been kidnapped by a dark sect in the North, and was being held with very specific ransom requirements. Requirements that involved Potter." 

"Involved Harry…how?" 

Kingsley sighed softly. "The first ransom note we received said they would release the girl, but only if Potter agreed to allow himself to be taken in exchange." 

"He didn't…" Draco wheezed, and felt all of the blood drain from his face. 

"Not initially," Kingsley replied. "In fact, I didn't even tell Potter about that contact, knowing his tendency to be, well…" 

"A reckless, self-sacrificing nitwit?" Draco blurted. For a moment, it looked almost as if Kingsley would smile, but he didn't. 

"I was going to say dangerously pro-active," Kingsley answered. "At any rate, we had no intention of even relating this incident to Potter, until we started receiving photos of the girl." Kingsley swallowed heavily, shaking his dark head. "It appeared that she was being tortured." Draco winced. "Then, the old man had a heart attack and remains gravely ill." He met Draco's eyes, an apology in them. "We had to move, Malfoy. The girl's life appeared to be at risk, and the old man was failing." 

Draco's eyes narrowed at something the Chief Auror had said. "'Appeared' to be being tortured, 'appeared' to be at risk? What does that mean, Shacklebolt?" 

He exchanged a quick look with Tonks, who crouched down next to Draco and took his cold hand in hers. That frightened him more than anything had before, and he tried to withdraw, but she wouldn't let him. She held on fast, short fingers strong around his. 

"It was a trap, Draco," she said softly, quickly. "The girl was in on it all along. We thought we had all contingencies covered, that we had sufficient back-up when Harry went in for the exchange, but something went wrong. It was a trap. There were wards that we didn't recognize, and the next thing we knew we were under a fierce assault and we had to withdraw." 

Blood was roaring so loudly in Draco's ears he couldn't hear anything after that. He stared into Tonks' face; he knew she was talking still, but he couldn't make sense of the words. Harry had gone in for an exchange…there had been a trap…they'd had to withdraw… 

"You left him." Draco said flatly, not knowing he'd spoken over Tonks as she tried to reassure him. She went silent, her eyes wide. "You left him," Draco repeated, voice rising, and eyes lifting to Shacklebolt, and Dawlish. Neither of them could meet his gaze. "You…you bastards! You left him!" 

He didn't know when he'd stood, only that he suddenly was standing and staring at Shacklebolt with fists clenched. 

"Malfoy, we have no intelligence to indicate that he's actually been harmed in any way." Dawlish said quickly. Draco ignored him. 

"When was this?" he spat out instead. They exchanged nervous looks. "Goddamn it, when was this?!" 

"It's been twenty-four hours since we pulled out." 

Draco snarled and grabbed the front of Dawlish's robes, slamming his back into the wall. Shacklebolt and Tonks were on him in moments, but his hands remained curled in the wide-eyed Auror's robes, and he bared his teeth. "Twenty four hours?" he growled. "He's been missing for a fucking day, and you're just telling me this now?" 

"Draco," Tonks pleaded, pulling desperately on his arm. "This isn't helping!" 

Draco released Dawlish, shoving him hard into the wall before turning on his supervisor. "Where was he last seen?" 

"Malfoy," Shacklebolt said placatingly, hand lifting. "He might be perfectly fine. We don't know otherwise." 

"Don't you dare patronize me," Draco ground out through clenched teeth. "If he were fine, he'd be here. If he were fine, he'd have contacted me. If he were fine, he'd never let me think…" His voice broke and he had to pause, swallowing heavily. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, unclenching his fists with an effort. His hand moved to rub his belly before he caught himself. 

"Tell me…where…he was…" he said, forcing himself to speak slowly. "When he was last seen. And I can find him." 

"Malfoy," Shacklebolt said quietly. "You can't go off on your own." 

"He won't be." 

Draco looked down at Tonks, who had lifted her small chin and was facing Shacklebolt, unblinking. 

"Tonks," he said wearily. 

"No," she retorted emphatically. "Kingsley, we have to go back. We have to at least try." 

A sharp rapping at the door interrupted whatever answer Shacklebolt had been going to give. "Yes, what is it?" 

The door opened and Draco recognized one of the junior members of Shacklebolt's core entourage peering in the door. The kid's name was Perkins or Parkins; at the moment he couldn't be fussed to remember. 

"Yes, Peters, what is it?" Kingsley asked impatiently when the new arrival stared at Draco warily. 

"There's been a… development, sir…" 

"What sort of development?" Draco asked harshly. The young man looked at him and swallowed heavily, but didn't answer immediately. "Goddamn it—" Draco snarled. 

"It's all right, Peters," Kingsley spoke over Draco, giving him a quelling look. "What is it?" 

"One of the conspirators has been captured, sir," the aide said quickly. "They're holding him in the Forbidden Forest, not far from where Potter was last seen." 

Kingsley stood quickly and he and Dawlish started for the door. 

"I'm going, too," Draco said flatly, following. Kingsley stopped and turned back. 

"Malfoy, I don't think." 

"I don't give a rodent's hairy rear end what you think, Shacklebolt," Draco sneered. "I'm going." 

Kingsley stared at Draco for a long moment before nodding in resignation. Within moments, the four of them were out the door and on their way to the nearest Apparition point.

oooOOOooo

"Draco, you need to let the others do their jobs."

He ignored Tonks as they were led briskly from the Hogsmeade Apparition point to the designated entrance to the Forbidden Forest. It was overcast and humid; his silk robes stuck to him, but he scarcely noticed. Why weren't they going any faster, he thought in agitation, the need to hurry nearly overwhelming to him. They should be running…what were they waiting for? 

"Are you listening to me?" Tonks persisted, pulling on his sleeve. "You need to let the Auror in charge do the questioning. If you try to butt in…" 

He shook off her hand without turning his head and moved to the outside of Dawlish. Behind him he thought he heard Tonks utter a long-suffering sigh, but he ignored that as well as they were led under the canopy of trees. Within a few yards, the entrance that had seemed an accident of nature swished shut behind them, the forest closing in and sealing them within its own environment, its control, it's palpable power. Draco hated the Forbidden Forest—had done since he was eleven-years-old—and yet on this overcast, dreary afternoon, he scarcely registered where he was. He just moved forward with that same sense of inner, unquestioned urgency. If Harry was lost somewhere in this dark and ominous place, then Draco would be here, as well. 

The sound of voices up ahead alerted the small party to the presence of others. Beneath the dense overhang of trees and vines, it was as dark in the forest as if it were after dusk. When they rounded a corner, they saw a group of people up ahead: two men in the distinctive black Auror's robes and, a third, much younger, clearly bound with his hands behind him back, all of them lit up with the distinctive blue light of wand tip. Draco saw the captive and pushed around Dawlish. 

"Malfoy!" Shacklebolt said sharply, a warning, but Draco ignored him. His long legs ate up the ground as he strode forward quickly with his wand in his hand. Before the two Auror's guarding their young prisoner could do a thing, Draco had him pinned to a thick tree, his forearm across the boy's throat, his wand pressed threateningly into the center of his forehead. 

"Draco!" Tonks cried, rushing after him, but Draco ignored her as well. He stared into fright-widened blue eyes, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a sneer. 

"Do you know who I am?" He growled directly into the prisoners face. The young man, who couldn't have been more than twenty, tried to pull away futilely. "Do you know who I am?" Draco repeated, shoving his bony forearm into the man's larynx. He gasped loudly. 

"Malfoy," the kid wheezed, eyes so wide white appeared all around the blue iris. "Draco Malfoy." 

"Very good," Draco said in a low sneer. 

"Yeah," the kid went on foolishly, a reckless light coming into his eyes. "You're Harry Potter's fuck, aren't you?" 

There were gasps from those gathered, but Draco didn't respond for a moment. When he did, it was to pull his left knee up sharply, right into the captive's groin. The boy gagged, eyes rolling up, and Draco held him upright with the arm braced across his throat when his knees sagged. The men around them shifted uncomfortably. 

"Not entirely wrong, you little shite," Draco growled even as the boy's skin turned a sickly bluish-grey. "But fucking rude. Do try to remember your manners." The kid blinked, tears of pain and fear slipping down his cheeks. "And you are absolutely right; I am Draco Malfoy. If you know that much about me, you also know that while I may work for the good guys now, I was trained by some very bad men." His eyes narrowed. "Very, very bad. I know spells that can peel the skin from your bones or roast your balls as you stand there. I'd advise you not to make me use them." 

Young and supremely reckless, the lad conjured a sneer. "They won't let you torture me," he said, indicating the others with his head. 

"They can't stop me," Draco retorted flatly. 

"You'll lose your job," the youngster countered, but he didn't look quite as brave. Now Draco laughed, and it was a mad, derisive sound. 

"You think I care about a fucking job?" he spat directly into the pale face. "You really are stupid." He pulled the wand from the prisoner's forehead and pointed it down at his groin. "Inflamare testiculus!" he said sharply, and almost instantly a high pitched wail emerged from the young man's throat. 

Draco held him fast as he tried to hop in place, his knees turning in as if to protect his groin. Draco knew the spell wasn't doing any actual damage, but that it also felt as if someone were holding a lighted match to the kid's balls. 

"Malfoy, stop," Shacklebolt instructed, trying to grab his arm. Draco shook him off. The boys cries rose higher and higher and he began to sob. When Draco figured he'd got the message, he ended the spell. For a moment, the only sound in the clearing was the harsh sound of the young man trying to draw a deep breath. 

"That," Draco said, his voice soft, ominously smooth, "was an appetizer." He leaned closer, until the prisoner had no choice but to look up into his narrowed eyes. "Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. The easy way is I ask the questions, and you give the answers. The hard way is I fry your bollocks, cut off your cock, and shove it up your arse." The face before him grew slightly blue as the eyes widened in panic, trying to search the other faces for help. Draco was grateful when no one else offered the snot any words of comfort. In fact, it was Tonks who spoke then, her own voice as harsh as Draco had ever heard it. 

"Don't look at us, you maggot," she snapped. "Harry Potter is our friend. You either tell us where he is, or I'll fucking hold you down while he does it." She raised her wand then and held it pointed at his face. "And you'd better hope he's all right. If he isn't, I'll make sure no one stops Draco until he's through with you." 

Now pure, unadulterated panic entered the widened eyes. "It's not my fault," he said brokenly, tears filling his eyes. "I didn't know what they were going to do, I swear it. They just said they were going to 'make an example of him', earn their reputations. I didn't know what they had planned. You can't blame me…" He began to sob, and Draco felt a frisson of fear slip down his spine like an icy finger. 

"Where is he?" he snarled even as his heart jammed into his throat. 

The boy looked up at him, suddenly appearing no more than the eighteen or nineteen years Draco was certain he'd lived. "You can't blame me," he repeated. "I…I didn't do it. I just watched. You can't blame me." 

The noise that came from Draco's throat sounded more like the snarl of a feral beast then anything a man could manufacture, and the boy jerked, turning his head away. 

"He was up ahead, in the forest," the boy sobbed. 

"Was?" Draco spat. "Was?" 

"Is there anyone else still in the forest," Shacklebolt interrupted sharply. "Because if this is some kind of a trap…" 

"No, just me. I was supposed to stay, to make sure that he…" He looked at Draco fearfully. "But they moved him. Said I should stay here and tell you that you'll never find him." 

Draco's eyes blazed at the boy. "Where _was_ he?" 

"Exact location," Tonks spat. "Now!" 

The boy swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing beneath his slick, pale skin. "There's a cave, a big one, just past a stand of Quaking Aspen. It's on the right, and there's a fallen log over the entrance. You can't blame me!" 

Draco released him and was running before the boy's knees gave out, led by the unexplainable urging he continued to feel from within. In his mind he knew that in his condition, he probably shouldn't run full stop, but the push to do so overcame his thoughts. He heard voices shouting behind him, but only one set of footsteps immediately followed him. They were light and quick; he knew it was Tonks. "Lumos Maximus!" he shouted, holding his wand aloft, moving through the trees, eyes searching frantically. 

When he came to the stand of Quaking Aspen, the leaves shuddering silvery grey to mossy green and back in the slight breeze, he searched the forest floor anxiously. 

"Draco, there!" Tonks shouted, and he turned to where she was pointing. There was, indeed, an enormous oak down on the forest floor, and if you looked closely, its heavy, gnarled branches were half shielding a craggy opening in the rock behind it. He pushed forward and clambered over the tree, ignoring the curled branches that caught at his robes and his hair, and into the opening beyond, somehow knowing the baby would be _protected_. 

It was much larger than it appeared from outside, and Draco found himself wondering absently if this was the cave where the giant acromantula, Aragog, had once dwelled. Harry had told him about the beast, and his and Weasley's encounter with it when they were twelve. There were some heavy cobwebs dangling from the ceiling and he shoved them aside and began to move forward. 

"There's light ahead," Tonks said near his elbow, and Draco could see what looked to be firelight, far ahead, flickering off of the stone walls. He ran forward, around one turn and then another. "Harry!" he called out in hope that the bastard had been lying and Harry was still inside. His voice echoed off of the rocks as he cried out again. "Harry!" 

They finally entered a large natural chamber, torches burning in brackets on the walls, and he skidded to a halt, looking around desperately. Where…? 

There were chains attached to the wall at about waist and foot level. One of the open shackles lay in a puddle of something dark. The coppery smell of blood filled the air. 

Draco moved forward to the puddle and waved his wand in a complicated gesture. Words appeared in the air just slightly above the ground. _blood…human…Harry Potter_.

oo00oo

Kingsley was trying to keep Harry's disappearance as quiet as possible. So rather than going back to the Ministry, Draco found himself pacing like a caged animal in a small back room at The Three Broomsticks. He was sick of watching Kingsley and Dawlish talking and planning what to do next.

Draco stopped and looked pleadingly at Tonks. "I need to go to him." The urge to Apparate was coursing through his body. He didn't understand how or why, but he _knew_ if he were to Apparate at that exact moment, he'd find the place where they were keeping Harry. 

Tonks grabbed his arm. "Don't! Give them a chance to send out some scouts, check the area." 

"Because they've done such a stellar job at that so far!" Draco hissed quietly, shaking out of her grasp. "You don't understand…I _have_ to do this." 

"Draco…" Tonks' voice trailed off. 

"They had their chance. They had over twenty-four hours to put a plan into play. I'm done waiting." Draco turned toward the group pouring over a map of the area where Harry had last been seen. 

"Listen up," Draco directed his words towards his boss. "We're wasting time with this…" He waved his hand in the air. "…crap. It isn't enough I've had to deal with your ineptitude, but now this damn baby is practically forcing me to find Harry and that's exactly what I intend to do!" 

With that, he spun on the spot and was gone, leaving three gaping Aurors behind. 

 

Kingsley Shacklebolt stared at the spot where Malfoy had stood moments before, then whirled on Tonks. 

"Why didn't you stop him?" he roared. "Where the hell did he…" He stopped mid-rant, startled surprise making his mouth hang open. "Baby?" He pointed at Tonks. "You knew this?" 

"I did not!" Tonks replied, shaking her head. "But I did anticipate he'd pull a runner, so I put a tracking spell on him when we got here. Now I need to go before he gets out of range. I'll send my Patronus when I have a location." With a soft pop, she disappeared as well. 

Kingsley felt Dawlish's gaze from his right. "What are you staring at?" he shouted at him. "Figure out where in the holy hell those two ran off to before I have three dead Aurors on my hands." 

Dawlish paled. "You think Potter is dead?" 

"I think Malfoy may be signing his death notice with this stunt." He paused, shaking his head. "What the fuck is he thinking Apparating if he's pregnant?" 

"I'll get a team together," Dawlish said. "We'll be ready to go as soon as we hear from Tonks." 

"Have them on stand-by for immediate deployment." Kingsley looked at the clock. Potter had been missing for nearly thirty-six hours. He rubbed his forehead. "Son of a bitch."

oo00oo

Draco stumbled as he landed, perilously close to a large tree. "A little more accuracy next time, if you please," he said rubbing his stomach absently. He stood for a moment, just feeling the _pull_ , when he heard the pop of Apparition behind him. He spun, wand drawn, only to lower it. "For fucks sake, Tonks! Are you trying to get me to kill you?"

"Couldn't let you run off on your own, now could I?" Tonks said, looking around. "Where are we?" 

"No clue. I let the baby's magic lead me." He tilted his head at her. "How did you find me?" 

Tonks looked at him and grinned. "So it is true. Harry got you up the duff, did he? I put a tracking spell on you when we got to Kingsley's. I was afraid you might do a runner." 

Draco growled. "Yes, manly Potter got me _up the duff_ with his army of warriors. Now, can we discuss knitting booties later? I'd much prefer this child to have two parents, which will be extremely difficult if one of them is killed due to the Ministry's incopetence!" 

"Oh you're going to be loads of fun during this pregnancy," Tonks said dryly. "So where does this sprog of yours tell us we should go." 

"First off I have no fucking clue where we are." He looked around and saw a dark forest looming ahead. It reminded him of the one they'd recently left, only he knew it wasn't the Forbidden Forest. "Give me minute to _center_ myself." Draco closed his eyes and became very still, trying to decipher the direction he was being pulled. 

After a few moments his eyes popped open. "That way," he said pointing toward the forest. "And we need to hurry, it's...not good." 

They took off at a run, Draco in the lead. He dashed into the forest and shifted left, where he saw an old trail nearly overgrown from lack of use. He rushed along, jumping over fallen tree limbs, his pace never slowing, going deeper into the now dark forest, where trees grew nearly on top of each other and blocked almost all the sunlight. 

"Draco!" shouted Tonks. 

He stopped, fumbling for his wand. Ahead he could just see a break in the trees. 

Tonks was faster. "Lumos Maximus!" She pointed her wand in the direction of the slight clearing. 

"Oh, fuck." 

Her words were whispered, but the sound of them, horror-filled, echoed and sent cold racing over the surface of Draco's skin. He looked at Tonks and found her staring up, her eyes unnaturally wide, and her face completely devoid of colour. He followed the direction of her gaze, and… 

Everything inside of him seemed to congeal. Even the baby, whose pull had been leading him, was quiet. Silence settled, heavy as a damp blanket, over him. In that unnatural silence the only sound was the steady, frantic beating of his own heart and the rasp of his harsh breaths. He stared, knowing what he was seeing and yet unable to make sense of it. 

There was someone hanging between two trees, about fifteen feet over their heads. It was a man, shirtless, shoeless, suspended between the trees by chains that stretched his arms unnaturally wide. The muscles in his shoulders and arms stood out in bold relief in the wand light, sharp hipbones rose above the sagging waistband of denims that had once been blue but were now black with blood. The man's head lay slumped forward on his muscular chest, and his thick black hair was tangled and matted. 

Draco didn't know he made a sound like a wounded animal. He didn't know the wand he raised shook in his hand, or that the spell he uttered came out as a choked sob. Dimly he heard Tonks mutter something and his eyes stayed on the figure as the chains melted away and it lowered slowly, turning slightly, like the chandeliers at the manor had done when the house-elves lowered them for cleaning. Such an incongruous thought at such a moment… 

The closer the figure came to them, the more clearly he could see that every inch of exposed tawny flesh seemed to be covered with bruises, welts, bleeding lacerations, so beaten up as to render the person all but unrecognizable. But it was the stillness of the body that was the most frightening, the complete and utter stillness. Even in sleep, Harry was never completely still. This couldn't be Harry…it couldn't be… 

Draco made to step forward as the body lowered, but Tonks caught his arm. 

"Draco, don't," she breathed, fingers curling in the fabric of his robes. "Don't. He looks…. I think he's….We have to preserve the chain of evidence…." 

Fury roared through him, unlike anything he'd ever felt before in his life, and he shook off her restraining hands. "He isn't dead," he hissed flatly. 

"Draco," Tonks pleaded, even as her eyes filled with tears. 

"He isn't!" he insisted. "We're having a baby, in December. We're still…. We need to…. He wouldn't do that to me…. He wouldn't!" His eyes went back up as the figure lowered closer, searching for some sign, some indication. A breath, a movement, anything. "He'll be all right. He has to be." He didn't see Tonks face crumple, or the tears that slid down her pale cheeks. 

When they were close enough that he could grab them, Draco reached up and took hold of the legs and caught the sinewy body as it fell limply forward. The weight of it drove Draco to his knees but he encircled the slender form and held on tight, preventing the body from hitting the ground hard, his wand falling from his hand. He held on to the slippery skin, unmindful of the blood on his hands, on his robes, as he lay Harry's head in the crook of his arm and, his hands trembling, smoothed the hair back from the battered face. 

"Oh, God," he moaned, taking in the eyes that were swollen shut, the misshapen angle of his nose, the bruises blooming on his neck and his jaw and his chest. The only thing recognizable was the nearly faded lightning bolt scar on his forehead. "What did they do to you? Harry, what did they do?" 

Beside him, Tonks took Draco's wand from where it had fallen and cast _Lumos Maximus_ , before cancelling hers. Next she cast a spell that disclosed their exact location. With another wave of her wand, a large silvery wolf burst from the end. "Go find Shacklebolt. Tell him to come to the Abernethy Forest, near Strathspey." 

Tonks knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she put them over Draco's. "Draco, sweetheart, please. Put him down." 

"Harry," Draco repeated instead, leaning closer to the battered face. "Harry, talk to me, please. Harry, talk to me. I need you to talk to me…" Draco peered into his face, but Harry's head hung over his arm, his mouth slightly open, a slender rivulet of blood smearing his chin from the split in his lower lip. "Harry," Draco repeated, beginning to feel fear creeping through him. The fear made him angry, and he shook the lifeless form hard. "Damn you, Harry James Potter, you can't do this to me. Not now! Not ever!" He shook him again harder as tears began to fill his eyes. 

"Draco, don't!" Tonks moaned. They were both so stricken they didn't notice the slight movement of the index finger of Harry's left hand. She caught at Draco's arms, he wouldn't let go, and they entered into a broken tug of war. 

A soft sound, so soft they almost didn't hear it, rose between them. A moan; small, gravelly, there and gone so quickly it might almost have been imagined. 

They both froze and stared. 

"Harry?" Draco gasped, leaning forward to study the blotchy face. 

This time there was no mistaking the sound, and they both saw the swollen lips move. 

"Oh, God!" Draco cried out, pulling Harry hard against his chest, his face in the messy, sticky hair. 

Harry groaned again softly, and Draco couldn't stop the almost hysterical laugh that climbed his throat. He was so relieved, so fucking relieved…. Harry was alive. 

"St Mungo's, Draco," Tonks said quickly when the sound of voices echoed from the forest. "Take him to St Mungo's, now. Get him out of here. I'll deal with the others." 

She was right, Draco knew. He had to get Harry out of there before the other Auror's descended on them with their prying looks and their questions, delaying their departure. He wrapped his arms hard around the body of his partner, and they disappeared with a soft 'pop'.

oo00oo

They Apparated into the casualty ward of St Mungo's. Draco collapsed under Harry's weight before he was surrounded by healers and medi-witches. He felt them lift Harry from his shaking arms. He tried to stop them, tried to keep at least one hand on him. He needed to touch Harry, but he was so tired. And the baby who had been so insistent was frighteningly silent. He pushed to his feet, only to sag back down. A pretty aide rushed to his side. He recognized her from school and allowed her to help him stand.

"I need to go to him," he rasped, his voice coarse and thick. 

"Draco," the girl said softly. "I'm sure you don't remember me. I'm Susan. They need to examine Mr Potter and most likely will be taking him right to the operating theatre. Let me help you to the waiting room." 

"Please," he pleaded. "I need to be near him. The baby...I need to be near him." 

Susan's eyes grew wide. "Harry's expecting? I'll need to tell them." She looked around quickly. "You should sit." 

"Sorry to disappoint," Draco replied. "I'm the one, not Harry." 

Susan looked at Draco, covered in blood, robes torn and dishevelled. "You?" 

"Guilty." 

"But you Apparated him here." Her dark eyes shone with concern. "You shouldn't have done that. It's not safe...." 

"Didn't have time for the Knight Bus, I'm afraid," Draco said dryly. "I'm fine. I just need to be near Harry." 

"What you need," Susan said, pulling Draco along, "is to be seen by a healer. You've put an enormous strain on your body and you must be examined." 

Draco stopped walking. "While I appreciate your concern, I'm fairly certain being an aide does not qualify you on the ins and outs of what I do and do not need." He wrenched out of her grasp. "What I _need_ is to see Harry." Draco took one step. His world pitched dizzily before going black, and he crumpled to the floor.

oo00oo

Draco woke to the steady beep of some sort of monitor. He ran his hand through his hair, stopping as the reality of where he was sank in. His hands grasped his stomach and his heart began beating again as he felt the small round _bump_ that was their baby.

"Miraculously, the baby is fine," a soft voice said from the darkened corner. 

Draco turned to see Tonks curled up in a chair, the soft blue monitor lights turning her pink hair an eerie shade of purple. His gaze moved to the bed next to him. In it, Harry lay unnaturally still, an assortment of tubes coming out of each arm and snaking up to several bottles that dripped healing and nutritional potions, to keep him alive. 

"How is he?" Draco asked quietly. 

"A damn sight better than he would have been if that sprog hadn't led you to him." Tonks shook her head. "Damnedest thing I've ever seen." 

"Freaked me out a bit too, truth be told," Draco admitted. His voice became even quieter. "I didn't hurt anything did I?" 

"Other than a goose egg on the side of your head when you hit the floor? Or scaring at least ten years off that poor Susan Bones' life?" Tonks answered sarcastically. "No." 

Draco looked down and rubbed his hand over the baby bump. "I guess I might have overdone it a bit." 

"A bit?" Tonks stood and moved to his bedside. "It wasn't until Shacklebolt found out exactly how badly beaten Harry was and how close to exhaustion you were that he stopped yelling and threatening to 'throw both of you nit-wits off the force'!" 

Draco looked back to Harry. "How bad was he?" 

"Might be easier to tell you what wasn't broken or injured." 

Draco's voice grew hard. "I may not forgive him this time. What the hell was he thinking? He could have been killed!" He scrubbed his face with his hands. "He nearly was." 

Tonks ran a hand across the top of Draco's head. "No one expected it to turn out this way, Draco." 

"Perhaps, but he has to think about more than just himself. While it'd be nice if he thought about me once in a while before he took off to _save the world_ he has to start thinking about this baby. His baby." 

"You're tired. I should go. I promised your mother I'd Owl when I had some news. I suspect she's a bit more than anxious to see you're awake for herself." 

Draco reached out and grasped Tonks' arm. "Thank you. For everything. But could you wait a few hours before you alert my mother? I need a bit of time alone, if you don't mind." 

She patted the top of his head and Draco was reminded of his mother putting him to bed at night, the thought making him smile as he fell back to sleep. 

 

The next time Draco woke, he could see a sliver of light peeking between the window frame and the blinds. He looked around the room for a clock, his gaze falling on his sleeping partner. Even now, Draco could see how extensive Harry's injuries had been. Pink healing scars criss-crossed his face, his eyes still sported faint bruising and Draco could see a patch on the side of Harry's head where his hair had apparently been shaved to repair one thing or another. 

Draco looked away, his heart heavy. What would it take for the man to stop trying to save everyone and everything...at the risk of losing himself along the way? Draco knew he was important to Harry, but he was beginning to wonder if he was important enough. That very sobering thought made Draco's heart hurt, along with his head and he closed his eyes. The steady beeping of the many machines in the room, lulled Draco back into a restless sleep.

oo00oo

When Draco woke again, the hint of sunlight was gone. He sat up and shifted his legs over the side of the bed, and as he stood, he felt a draft on his arse. He rolled his eyes and used a sticking charm to keep the back of his gown closed as he walked gingerly the few steps it took him to reach Harry's bedside. Even now he lay so still Draco held his hand under Harry's nose to _feel_ him breathe. A noise behind him made him quickly pull his hand back. He turned and gave the entering nurse a small grin. "I woke up," he said sheepishly.

"Mr Malfoy," she chastised softly, "you really shouldn't be out of bed on your own. You gave our Susan quite a scare the other day." 

"Other day? Precisely how long have I been asleep?" 

She smiled. "Off and on for about two days. You seriously exhausted yourself Apparating Mr Potter back from Scotland. Not to mention the fact you're pregnant, which is a drain on your magic all on its own." 

"I only did what I had to do," Draco replied, his voice soft, sincere. He looked back down at Harry. "How long will he sleep?" 

The nurse shook her head. "They have him in a deep healing coma. The internal damage he suffered was quite extensive, not to mention the head trauma." 

Draco sighed audibly. "Always the hero." He stroked Harry's hair, which was once again clean and soft. "You know the world wouldn't end if you put yourself first every so often. Or maybe even me."

oo00oo

Three days passed before they began to bring Harry out of the _healing coma_ and after that it was almost two full days before he opened his eyes.

Draco had been released as a patient the day after he woke, but refused to leave Harry's room or side. In the end, Healer Wolford decided it would be easier to monitor any stress related symptoms if Draco was at St Mungo's. His mother brought him fresh clothes, and fussed over him until Draco firmly, but politely, told her she needed to leave. After that it was just Draco and the beeping of the machines to keep him company. Even _sprog_ , as Draco had taken to thinking of the baby, was calm as long as he stayed near Harry. Unfortunately, that also left a considerable amount of time for thinking and what Draco thought about was how inconsiderate Harry had been to take on such a dangerous mission. 

 

He was pacing...again. Ten steps from his bed to the far wall, turn left and six steps to the door. Repeat – in the other direction. 

"Stupid git, what exactly were you thinking when you agreed to such an asinine idea? Oh, that's right! You weren't thinking!" Draco shook his head. "Because if you had you'd have told Kingsley where he could shove this _brilliant_ plan of his!" 

Draco stopped and leaned against the end of his bed, rubbing his eyes. _Beep...beep...beep...beep_ beat a steady rhythm in the background of his rant. Then a change in the rhythm and the sound of shifting bedding came from Harry's bed. 

"Dr'co?" Harry's voice cracked. 

"Oh Merlin!" Draco rushed to Harry's bedside and looked down into the fluttering green eyes. 

Harry tried to run his tongue across his lips. "Dry," he rasped. 

Draco put a few drops of water on a towel and dabbed at Harry's lips. 

"Better?" Draco asked. 

"Mmmhmm." 

Harry shifted in the bed. "Head hurts. What day is it?" He raised an arm and studied all the attached tubes. "What's this?" 

Draco glared. " _That_ is what's been keeping you alive for the last week, you selfish prat!" 

"Selfish?" Harry's brow furrowed. 

"Yes, you selfish, self-sacrificing arse!" Draco's voice rose. "How could you go off like that? When's it going to be enough? How many times do I have to stand here, like this, wondering if this will be the time you...you..." His voice became nearly a whisper. "...don't wake up." Draco's eyes filled with tears. "You think about everyone but us, and I can't do this by myself!" 

Harry reached for Draco's hand. 

Draco took a step back, hand shifting instinctively over his belly. 

"Draco, don't." Harry implored. "I'm sorry." 

"You're sorry?" He shook his head. "It's not that easy. You think an _I'm sorry_ is going to fix this? That I'm going to be so grateful the great Harry Potter has saved the day again?" Draco gave a small sob. "Do you have any idea how it felt to find you? Hanging like that? Not knowing if you were dead or alive? Wondering if I'd ever hear you laugh again." He wiped his eyes with trembling fingers. "Wondering if you'd be here to see your child born." 

"Draco..." 

"No! I've been here for a week making sure you didn't stop breathing! Now you need to decide what's important in your life and until you do, we'll be at the Manor!" 

Draco turned and stalked to the door. When he was in front of the door, he stopped abruptly and tried to reach out his hand. 

"I love you!" Harry cried after him. "Don't go!" 

Draco stood perfectly still. 

"I can't." 

Harry sighed. "Oh thank Merlin. We'll work this out, Draco, I promise. Please, come here." 

"I told you, I can't!" 

"Can't?" Harry frowned in confusion. 

"Oh for the love of...must I spell it out for you? I can't fucking move!" Draco twisted his body and glared over his shoulder. "You bastard! Did you hex me?" 

"I'd never!" Harry answered. 

Draco stopped twisting and looked down at his stomach, understanding dawning. "Oh, very clever, aren't you? If I say I won't go, will you allow me to move?" He turned back towards the bed. "Apparently sprog thinks I should stay." 

"Clearly he must have your brains." Harry held out his hand. "Draco, please?" 

Slightly mollified, Draco crossed the room and took the offered hand, lowering his head and kissing it between the tubing. He allowed himself to be pulled closer. 

The slight round bump of his belly was even with Harry's head and he turned, pressing his face against it. "Draco, I know what's important. I do. Please stay. I need you. Both of you." 

"Do try to remember it next time before you go haring off, will you?" Draco said dryly. But he caressed Harry's hair as the small life inside of him seemed to snuggle against his partner's cheek. Maybe being the partner of a hero wasn't such a bad thing after all. 

**Six Months Later**

Draco sat on the chaise, watching as their small group of friends mingled together around Harry and _sprog_. It hadn't been easy. Draco had given Kingsley his notice the week after Harry returned home. It seemed the Auror department considered him a bit of a risk and he'd been assigned to desk duty for the duration of his pregnancy. When the news came down, Draco decided he could sit on his arse in the comfort of his own home as well as he could in a stuffy office. And that was that. 

Harry's injuries took longer to heal than the Healers had anticipated. The nerve damage in his wand hand slowed his response-time adequately enough to be worrisome, and he and Draco spent hours discussing their future. Finally Harry decided _saving the world_ was no longer that important to him. As long as he continued to fight, the Wizarding world would insist he was the only one who could do it. 

Three months before _sprog_ was born, Harry Potter Malfoy and Neville Longbottom opened _Designs of Love_ —Magical Gardens and Landscaping. Harry handled the customers and with Draco's help kept the books. Neville used his extensive plant knowledge to design some of the Wizarding world's most beautiful gardens and grounds. Narcissa Malfoy was their best customer. 

At the beginning of December, Clarissa Dora Potter Malfoy came into the world. Draco had insisted she be named after his cousin to thank her for helping him keep his family together. 

Today they were celebrating her birth and their marriage. The small miracle held tightly in Harry's arms had helped Draco save his husband and wrapped herself around their hearts long before she was born. 

Being a hero to the masses, Draco decided, might occasionally entail saving the world. But all Harry had to do to be Draco's personal hero was to love him, and their daughter. And he did.

finis


End file.
